A lifetime played according to rules never spoken subscribed to beliefs never understood. <> Lead by the hand to Charon's dock with rubies flowing dripping pooling at the Ferryman's feet. <> No coin for payment thrown into Death's river surrounded by Styx's icy embrace. <> Washed and reborn with Hades' kiss.....
Tag: loss
Out of Sight
Out of sight, out of mind, No time to keep your word, Another promise un-kept, Another day without you...
Eyes…
Eyes stinging after showers of tears, time to talk, time to corner, not to listen, only to ask questions to which no answer will ever work or satisfy... time to cry, time to wail, time to tell another what love is, what love is... Is it a touch, or is it standing day by day, …
Death Has Come Up
Review of Zombie Bible: Death Has Come Up into Our Windows By Stant Litore This first book of the Zombie Bible is very promising for lovers of fiction and the horror genre. The story is set in an ancient city besieged by the Babylonian army and the dead, setting it apart from others in the …
Day Two of Gratitude:My Greatest Teachers
Each day that I go to school, I prepare myself for my students. Prepare to teach them and guide them where they need to be. And each day, they teach me something. One of my students, Sofie, left her abusive boyfriend, is now sleeping on her parent's sofa with her daughter. She didn't wait for …
All gone
My hands graze my breasts, feeling the marks left by the fire’s embrace, remembering passions forbidden by society’s glare, a word, a kiss and lovers reunited for a moment, always gone too soon, always gone too soon… <> In daylight we must part or When the chime strikes the appointed hour, Forever in tangled souls …
Cleanse the past, toss the junk…
There is certain melancholy mist that can settled upon as I go through the boxes left over from my last year. The new place wasn't as accommodating as I hoped nor did the bookshelves appear to replace the ones which didn't survive the stress of a crosstown move. You know the kind of move where …
Growing
The growing mound is now empty of life . The Spark has died. No weeping or wailing, No beating of breasts, No rituals of mourning mandated, Or expected. Just the cleansing of flesh. And the promise that time moves on.
Lucinda Rose 